


Gravitation

by WillowSong



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Romance, Spideypool - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2508605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowSong/pseuds/WillowSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where Spiderman never exists, young Peter Parker makes an unlikely friend in Deadpool.</p><p> </p><p>Based on a prompt that the lovely taetastic texted to me awhile ago. ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taetastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taetastic/gifts).



Okay, so Peter was an idiot. That was something about himself that he had come to terms with long ago, but even he was surprised when, instead of running away like a normal, sane person, he turned and faced the three men about to mug him.

He was no stranger to muggings considering that he had grown up in New York, but he had always managed to avoid being the victim. He was good at monitoring his surroundings, but for some reason, that night on his way to buy eggs for Aunt May, he had let his thoughts run away with him. And look where it had gotten him- stuck in an alley, about to get mugged.

There was an exit down the alley behind him, but he ignored it and stood with his fists clenched and his feet wide apart, watching as the men formed a semicircle around him.

One of them laughed and flicked open a penknife. "You seem awful eager to get robbed, kid."

"Not really, I just don't find you to be that scary," Peter replied.

His words were met with more rough laughter as the men moved toward him.

"Three against one. I'd say that's a pretty good reason to be scared."

Peter nodded. "True. Come back with a couple other guys and maybe you won't find me to be so intimidating."

“Don’t try to get cute, kid.”

“I’m not trying to be cute, I’m trying to supply you with the out that you clearly need.”

The grins vanished off the thugs faces. "You calling us cowards?" one of the other muggers grunted.

"It was implied, yes."

Peter was pinned again a wall with a fist sunk deep into his gut almost before the words has finished leaving his mouth. "Say that again," the thug breathed into his face.

"You really need to brush your teeth," was all Peter managed to gasp out.

As the fist jabbed his gut again he could feel one of the other muggers fishing around roughly in his pockets, yanking out his phone and wallet.

"Don't-" he tried to say, grabbing for the man, but was stopped when the man pinning him down shoved him into the wall again, so hard that his skull cracked painfully against the brick.

His vision blurred slightly and he heard the muggers laughing, only the sound was muffled like he was hearing things through a vacuum. The laughing cut off abruptly when a red and black clad figure dropped down and landed directly on top of the thug holding Peter's belongings, knocking him hard into the ground.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to play nicely?" the red figure asked the thugs.

Through his blurred vision he saw the thug with the knife point it at the newcomer and said, "Get lost." Was it just Peter's imagination or was the man's voice shaking with fear?

"Naw, but I'm having so much fun." The red figure certainly did sound like he was having fun.

There was a blur of red and black, followed by several grunts and howls of pain before the two thugs raced out of the alley.

Peter closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear his vision. When he opened them he was staring into a pair of black eyes sewn into the bright red mask. He would know that face anywhere. It was one of the most infamous faces in the world. He had even written an entire paper talking about that face and the man underneath it.

"You okay, little nerd?" Deadpool asked, holding out his hand to help Peter to his feet.

Peter hesitantly accepted the hand, rising unsteadily to his feet. "Yeah, just a bump on the head," he replied, wincing as he gingerly touched the sore spot on the back of his skull. At least it hadn't drawn blood.

"Good," Deadpool replied. "Hold on for a second." He whirled and kneed the third thug, who had been trying to sneak away behind them, hard in the groin. The man fell to the ground, howling in pain as Deadpool bent down and plucked Peter's phone and wallet out of the man's hand. "I'll take these back, thank you. Play nicely next time." He turned and tossed Peter's things back to him. "You might want to keep a closer eye on your shit," was all he said before turning to leave.

"Wait!" Peter practically shouted.

Deadpool turned in surprise. "What's up, pudding cup?"

"Um...." What was he supposed to do now? Peter blurred the first thing that came into his mind: "I can buy coffee?"

Peter could see the amused grin stretching out underneath Deadpool's mask. "So can I, but I don't think I'd want to."

Peter turned bright red. "No, I just meant.... Let me buy you some coffee. As a thank you. For saving me. I mean, for saving my stuff."

God, when did he become so awkward? And wasn't Deadpool supposed to the Merc with the Mouth? Why was he just standing there grinning?

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee as a thank you?" Peter finished babbling lamely.

Deadpool studied him for a minute before replying. "You can buy me a thank you, but who the fuck wants coffee? It's gross and bitter. Come with me and I'll introduce you to the wonders of substenances that'll put hair on that scrawny chest of yours. Come on, men!" he shouted like he was leading a battle charge before grabbing Peter's wrist and hauling him out of he alley.

It was going to be an interesting evening.

******

Peter really didn't know what he had expected, but for some reason, this wasn't it.

They were seated at a two-person table by the window of a little Mexican restaurant with a pile of tacos big enough to feel a small country on the table between them. Somehow he had expect the world's most ruthless mercenary to have finer tastes in dining, but considering how quickly it had taken Deadpool to haul Peter halfway across the city, apparently this was one of his favorite places.

"Why did you help me?" Peter asked as Deadpool squirted enough hot sauce into his taco to start a forest fire.

Deadpool shrugged. He had left his mask on, only rolling up the bottom so he could eat. In the dim light Peter could see some strange markings on his skin, but he didn't mention them. "Just felt like it," Deadpool replied.

Peter shook his head, not accepting the answer. "That's not your style. You don't just go around helping people for the heck of it. You don't step into things unless you're getting paid and I seriously doubt you were paid to stop me from getting mugged."

Deadpool studied Peter with interest for a moment. "Cute AND smart. Jackpot," he grinned.

Peter flushed red, not liking the change in subject. "I am NOT cute."

"Ooooooh, you're blushing!" Deadpool said around a mouthful of half-chewed taco.

"I am not and stop talking with your mouth full," Peter snapped. "And answer my question."

Deadpool made a very theatrical show of swallowing his bite before replying. "I was on a rooftop, I saw what was happening, I was going to ignore you, but I didn't. End of story." He went back to his taco.

"Yes, but why not?" Peter persisted.

Deadpool sighed. "I thought this was supposed to be a thank you, not an interrogation. Can't you let a man eat his tacos in peace?" he grumbled.

"Not until you tell me the truth," Peter replied stubbornly.

"Fine, you win," Deadpool groaned. "I decided to help because you didn't run away. You stood your ground and were about with get pulverized for it. I found it to be extremely sexy. Good enough for you?"

Peter shook his head. "That's still not your style."

"How do you know so much about my style anyway?" Deadpool asked, leaning his chair back onto its back legs.

"I might have written a paper about you for school last year," Peter muttered.

Deadpool's eyes lit up under his mask. "Really? You did? I thought kids only wrote about heroes."

Peter shrugged. "You're kind of an antihero. It's more interesting."

Deadpool grinned. "Finally! Hallelujah! Someone has finally seen the light!" he shouted, gesturing toward Peter like he was a sign from God during a revival. It attracting the attention of most of the restaurant and several of the diners near them edged their chairs away. To Peter's surprise he was more amused than embarrassed by the show and couldn't help the grin the that spread across his face as Deadpool let his chair crash back to the floor as he leaned in toward Peter.

"Nobody gets it!" he said excitedly. "Whenever I say that it's more interesting to not have any loyalties and to keep people guessing, they just think I'm nuts! Which, I guess I am, but that's beside the point. You get it though, right?"

Peter nodded thoughtfully. "I can definitely see where you're coming from," he said. "I don't think I would want to live that way and it might not be right as far as ethics go, but it would definitely keep you from getting board."

Deadpool nodded his head so violently that Peter was afraid it was going to fly across the room. "Screw ethics," Deadpool agreed.

"I wouldn't go quite that far," Peter laughed.

Deadpool picked up another taco and began drowning it in hot sauce. "So what about you, kid? What's your story? Most people are scared when they're about to get mugged and you just looked passed."

Peter shrugged. "No real reason. I just don't like bullies."

"You avoid answering questions almost as well as I do," Deadpool said, pointing his taco at Peter for emphasis. "Not quite as well, but close. I played ball, now it's your turn. Why didn't you run?"

Peter picked up a paper napkin on the table and began twisting it in his hands, avoiding looking at the black eyes sewn into the mask that was staring at him. "Because I don't want to be the kind of person that will run away from trouble just because of fear."

Deadpool studied him in silence for a moment while Peter avoided eye contact. "Well," Deadpool finally said. "That was unexpectedly deep and philosophical." Peter looked up to see a grin on the bottom half of Deadpool's face. "What's your name, kid?"

"Peter Parker."

Deadpool stuck his hand out and Peter took it uncertainly, only to have Deadpool start pumping their arms up in down in such an enthusiastic handshake that Peter was worried his arm might come off.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Petey," Deadpool said. "I'm Wade Wilson."

Peter grinned back. "Nice to meet you, Wade."

******

Wade insisted on accompanying Peter home. Peter was equally please and embarrassed to have an armed guard walk him back to Queens, but soon forgot about the embarrassment as Wade strolled easily at his side, chatting about the time he had gotten run over by a train.

"But didn't it hurt?" Peter interrupted.

Wade shrugged. "Well yeah, but I regenerated."

"That doesn't mean you should go jumping in front of trains for the hell of it!"

Wade laughed. He had left his mask rolled up, but Peter still couldn't tell what the markings on his face were. "It was fun though! It made an awesome noise! And you should have see the look on the engineer’s face when I started reassembling."

Peter shook his head. "That poor guy is probably going to be in therapy for the rest of his life."

"Aw, he was fine after he breathed into a paper bag for awhile."

They stopped outside of Peter's house. Aunt May always kept virtually every light on in the house until Peter got home every night. It was a habit she had developed over the past several months.

"Nice place," Wade commented. "Your parents did a good job with the decorations and shit."

Peter laughed. "That's my aunt's handiwork, actually."

"You don't live with your parents?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "No. Why, do you live with yours?"

Wade smiled under his mask. "Okay fine, point taken. I won't pry. I was just curious."

"Damn! I forgot to get her eggs!" Peter shook his head. "Can't be helped now. I better go in before she gets worried that I’m not home yet."

"Sure, sure," Wade replied. "Wouldn't want you wandering off again. Just try not to do anything stupid again, okay?"

"Says the guy who got squashed by a train on purpose."

"Hey, I have a healing factor. You, on he other hand, don't. So ha!" Wade stuck his tongue out for emphases.

"Very mature," Peter grimaced as he turned toward the door. "Goodnight, Wade."

"Goodnight, little nerd."

"By the way," Peter said turning back. "Thanks agains for-"

He stopped when he realized that there was no one there. Wade was gone.

******

After dinner Peter replayed through his mind the events of the evening. He hadn't told Aunt May everything because he didn't want her to worry. He had just said that he had run into a little trouble and forgot to get the eggs. He didn't mention that he had also run into Deadpool.

As he brushed his teeth, Peter began to wonder if he had made the whole thing up. It seemed so unreal that he had spent his entire evening being escorted around New York by Deadpool.

However, when he entered his room, he stopped and stared at the open window, which he was completely positive that he had shut earlier.

On the windowsill sat a carton of eggs.


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed and still Peter hadn't heard anything from Wade. He didn't know what he had expected, it wasn’t like he had made that much of an impression on Wade. He didn’t even know that much about Wade, besides what he had learned from researching him. But it wasn't even that Peter wanted to ask him about his past or his job, though, he just wanted to talk to Wade. He had made Peter laugh harder than he had in months.

And that's how, Friday afternoon after school, Peter found himself standing outside the restaurant Wade had taken him to. It was stupid, there was no reason that Wade would be there, but Peter squared his shoulders and walked in.

The bell on the door jingled merrily as he entered. The entire place was deserted except for the grumpy looking cook behind the counter. It had been a gamble for Wade to be there anyway, so Peter tried to ignore this disappointment that settled in his chest as he walked up to the counter to order.

While he was ordering, the door jingled open behind him and a second later he felt a heavy arm drape across his shoulder. He didn't have to turn to know who it was.

"What's up, baby boy? Buying me dinner again?"

Peter smiled without turning. "I paid last time, Wade. It's your turn."

They sat at the same table they had before while they waited for their food. Peter watched as Wade rolled up his mask in preparation for the food and felt his stomach drop as he realized what the marks on his face were: scars. They covered the bottom half of his face in angry red blotches. It looked painful, but Peter didn’t say anything.

"So how was your week?" Wade asked.

"Boring. Lots of homework, lots of jackasses at school. Nothing out of the ordinary. What about yours?"

"Decent. I was in Egypt for awhile. Don't piss off drug lords, by the way. It doesn't end well."

Peter shook his head. "I don't even want to know."

"I couldn't tell you without shooting you after anyway."

"Then yeah, let's definitely skip it."

The grumpy cook stalked over to them and slammed their food down in front on them like it had personally offended him before slouching away.

"Do you always eat this much Mexican food?" Peter asked, eyeing the impressive array of chimichangas Wade had ordered.

"Yep! Breakfast of champions! Or, I guess in that case it would be dinner of champions."

They were silent for a few minutes as they are their dinner before Wade spoke again. "So who are these school jackasses you mentioned?"

Peter frowned at him. "I told you to stop talking with your mouth full. And there's actually just one jackass. His name is Flash. I've known him for years, but for some reason he finds my existence to be a bit insulting."

Wade snorted. "I hate bullies. Always trying to compensate for something. Maybe he has a crush on you."

Peter choked on his bite of taco, coughing violently. He chugged half of his water glass before turning back to glare at Wade. "He does NOT have a crush on me."

Wade grinned. "Just a thought. Sometimes people express their affection through violence. Not me though. I mean, if I did that then that would meam I'm basically in love with every crime syndicate in the entire world. That would be weird."

"Do you ever not like what you do? Killing people, I mean?"

Wade looked at Peter thoughtfully. "No, no really. I've always been pretty content."

"But you kill people."

"Everyone dies eventually. Except me, I guess."

"That doesn't make it right."

Before Wade could respond, Man! I Feel Like A Woman began blaring from somewhere under the table. Wade pulled out his cellphone.

"Hello?" He sat silently for a moment before he began to make faces and mime in a very unflattering way whatever the person on the other end was saying. "Yeah, yeah," he finally said. "I'll go clean it up. Yeah. Fine."

He hung up.

"Sorry to dine and dash, baby boy, but apparently somebody isn't as dead as they're supposed to be and I've got to go take care of it."

Peter shook his head. "I can't believe you just to me that you're going to go kill someone."

Wade stood up. "You can't get too queezy when you run with Deadpool, Petey. See ya!"

He ran out the door before Peter could reply.

******

Peter was woken up at 8am on the next morning to his phone playing You Sexy Thing as a text tone. Considering that he had never liked that song, let alone set it as his text tone, he was thoroughly confused until he looked at the screen.

Underneath a number he had never seen before was a caller id picture of Deadpool, wearing a cowboy hat, sitting on a bull, giving the camera a thumbs up.

Against his better judgment, Peter opened the text to read it.

\---

Wade: good morning, sunshine!!!! XOXO

Peter: when did you highjack my phone?

Wade: last night after you went to sleep. you snore, by the way.

Peter: you were here last night?!

Wade: yeppppppppp.

Peter: why?!

Wade: i needed somewhere to sleep and i figured your floor was more comfortable than a roof or something. the family who owns apartment i've been crashing in came home from vacation a week early because one of their kids was sick. how rude is that?? they didn't even give me time to find another apartment! they just walked in and started throwing shit at me and screaming stuff about breaking and entering. rude. so rude.

Peter: wait.... you stayed the night in my room last night?!?!?!

Wade: try to keep up with what's important, petey! they took my apartment! well.... i guess it's technically not mine, but still!

Peter: wtf?!?!?!?

Wade: i know!! what the fuck is wrong with those jerks?!

Peter: no, the wtf was directed at you!

Wade: .... what did I do?

Peter: you can't just come sleep in my room without asking!!!

Wade: .... why? i do that to people all the time. Although, to be fair, they're usually not home. and i stayed on the floor last night.

Peter: that doesn't matter, it's still creepy! especially since this isn't the first time you’ve done it to someone! stop it!

Wade: fine, fine.

Wade: you should probably get up soon though.

Peter: why?

Wade: your aunt made us pancakes for breakfast! :D

Peter: YOU'RE STILL HERE?!?!?

\--- 

Peter didn't wait for a reply, but leapt out of bed and dashed downstairs. He stopped short in the doorway of the kitchen and stared at the scene before him.

Sitting at the table, in full mercenary gear and pink bunny slippers, was Wade. A mountain of pancakes sat on the plate in front of him and Aunt May was standing beside him, pouring him another glass of orange juice. They both looked up as Peter emitted a strangled squeak of surprise.

"Peter, I was just about to come wake you," Aunt May smiled as she turned to pour a glass of orange juice for Peter. "You'd better come get some of these pancakes fast before Wade eats them all."

Peter plopped down in a chair, glaring at Wade as he took some of the pancakes.

"You didn't tell me you were having a friend over last night, Peter," Aunt May said cheerfully as she started washing dishes.

"Yeah, it was kind of a last minute thing," Peter replied, glaring at Wade who was trying to muffle his laughter.

"You didn't tell me you knew Deadpool either." Peter could hear the warning in her voice and knew she was expecting an explanation later. Apparently Wade heard it too because he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"He hasn't known me for very long, Mrs. Parker. We've been bumping into each other on and off for awhile now and he was kind enough to offer me a place here when I got kicked out of my apartment last night. I hope that was alright."

"Of course it was alright, dear," Aunt May smiled at him. "If you have nowhere to stay the couch is yours for as long as you need it." She picked up the syrup bottle and went in to the pantry to put it away.

As soon as she was out of sight Peter rounded on Wade. "We've met twice, that's not 'bumping into each other on and off for awhile!'" he hissed.

"Okay, fine, but I got you out of a lecture," Wade whispered back.

"You're not staying here! I barely know you!"

"You're aunt said I could!"

"She knows you even less than I do!"

As Aunt May walked back into the room Peter and Wade sprung apart and pretended to be very interested in their pancakes.

"Deadpool-" Aunt May began.

"Please, Mrs. Parker, call me Wade."

She smiled. "Alright, Wade. Just to clear the air, I am aware of what you do for a living. But I'm also trusting you and believing that, despite your poor life choices, you are still a good person. Don't prove me wrong."

"Yes, ma'am," Wade replied, looking appropriately terrified by the steel in May's voice.

"Good," she smiled. "I've got some shopping to do today. You boys have fun while I'm gone."

Wade's phone buzzed as he received a text. He glanced at the screen with a grimace.

"Actually Mrs. Parker, I'm going to be leaving after dinner. I'll be gone for a couple days."

May nodded, ignoring the implication of what he would be doing while he was gone. "The sofa will be waiting for you when you get back. Until you leave you can help Peter with the chores."

******

"Your aunt is scary," Wade commented, leaning on the rake that he was supposed to be using to help Peter rake up the dried autumn leaves that were strewn across the yard. "But in a super badass way."

Peter nodded. "Yeah, she's great."

Wade studied him for a moment. "You really don't want me here." It wasn't a question.

Peter stopped raking and faced Wade. "You make me a little bit nervous," he said bluntly. "I don't know why you're here. I don't know why you picked my house to crash at. I feel like you have ulterior motives and I can't figure out what they are."

"Maybe I do have ulterior motives but they aren't what you think they are."

"What does that even mean?" Peter asked, exasperated.

"Look, I picked your house because you're nice and you don't treat me any differently than you would any other random guy you just met. You treat me like Wade, not like Deadpool. I want to be your friend."

Pete let out a startled laugh. "You know that's not the way people usually make friends, right? They get to know each other gradually, they don’t just ask people if they want to be friends."

"Why not? That dog from the movie Up did it. Although he told people that he loved them too. Would it help if I said I love you?"

"God, no!" Peter yelped.

"Just give me a chance, Petey. I promise I can be a good friend. Or at least a good houseguest."

Peter sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Aunt May seems to like you, so that’s pint in your favor.” He dropped his hand. “Fine. We can be friends. And you can stay. But you’re not allowed to sleep in my room. Got it?”

"Got it!" Wade crowed, scooping a protesting Peter up in a bone-crushing hug.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this somehow?” Peter wheezed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Lots of fluff. The angst shall be coming soon, though! :D

Over the next several weeks the Parkers and Wade fell into an easy routine. Wade slept on the couch at nights and helped with the housework during the day. He never removed his mask, although he did consent to wearing a hoodie and jeans at home after he had almost given one of Aunt May’s friends a heart attack when she came to visit.

Sometimes he would get calls on his phone and disappear for a time, sometimes just a few hours, sometimes a few days. Peter began to notice that he hated those days when Wade vanished. It became quiet and oppressive without his loud voice carrying from one side of the house to the other.

It didn't help that Wade often came home from assignments covered in blood. The first time it happened he had been gone for an entire week.

Peter had walked into his room, determined to stop worrying about where Wade was and finish working on an English paper, but when he opened the door he froze: Wade was lounged on his bed, his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms tucked behind his head. Then Peter saw the gaping hole in Wade’s stomach that was still bleeding profusely.

Peter opened his mouth, but he had no idea what he would have said because Wade was across the room in a flash, one hand clamped over Peter's mouth and the other softly closing the door behind them.

"I know it looks bad, but it’s really not. I just don't want your aunt to see."

Peter batted Wade's hand away. "What happened to you?"

"I kind of swallowed a small bomb."

"Please tell you're kidding."

"No really, I swallowed it. It tasted surprisingly like mint. I was expecting a more metallic kind of taste, to be honest, but there was definitely some mint in there and- hey, where are you going?" He broke off as Peter turned and left the room without a word.

He was back a minute later with a damp towel and a first aid kit.

Wade laughed. "I'll be healed soon, Petey, you don't have to bother with that."

"You're bleeding all over my room, so shut up and pull your shirt up."

Peter immediately regretted his words as he saw a grin spread across Wade's face under his mask. "Why Petey, how forward of you," Wade tittered.

"Oh, just shut up and do what I said," Peter blushed.

Still grinning, Wade pulled his blood soaked shirt out of the way. The part of his chest that wasn’t gaping open was crisscrossed with scars identical to the ones that Peter had seen on his face. Peter ignored them and began to gently dab at the fresh wound with the damp towel.

“Owww,” Wade winced.

“Your chest just literally exploded and you’re complaining about a cloth rubbing you?”

“I told you that it’s going to heal soon, so you don’t have to do that,” Wade said, wincing even more as Peter neared the wound.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Peter replied, watching as the skin slowly knit itself back together. “But I’m pretty sure that even you don’t want an infection. Now stop being such a baby. I’ll be done faster if you stop squirming.”

“That’s what she said,” Wade muttered. He yelped sharply when Peter brushed gently over the wound.

“Almost done,” Peter murmured. “Tell me about one of your missions, maybe that will distract you.

Wade thought for a moment. “Did I tell you about the time that someone tried to hire me to kill a boy band?” he finally asked.

The corners of Peter’s mouth twitched. “No, I don’t think you did.”

“Classic case of jealous boyfriend wanting his girlfriend to stop mooning over other guys.”

“Killing them off doesn’t sound like a very good way to keep her affection.”

“I think he was hoping that she wouldn’t find out he was behind it.”

“Did you do it?”

“Of course not! He was only going to pay me $50! Plus I might listen to the band frequently. And no,” he said as Peter opened his mouth. “I’m not telling you who it band is.”

“I’ve never been into boy bands. I’m more of a classical music kind of guy,” Peter commented as he began to wrap some bandages around Wade’s chest.

Wade grinned. “You’re such a cute little nerd, Petey.”

Peter flushed. “Quit saying that.”

“It’s true, though.”

Peter tied off the bandage. “There, all done.”

Wade looked down at the crisp white bandages that were wrapped around his chest. “You should be a doctor.”

“Not a chance,” Peter laughed. “I only take care of people with healing factors so I know I won’t kill them.”

Wade nodded. “Very wise. Most doctors go bald anyway and you’d look really funny bald.” A wicked grin spread over Wade’s face. “Hey, that’s an idea! Petey, can I give you a haircut?”

Peter scooted backward away from him. “No! No way!”

Wade giggled and lunged forward, knocking Peter off the bed. They landed on the floor in a tangle of legs and arms. There was a short-lived wrestling match, which resulted in Peter being pinned to the floor by a grinning Wade.

“Just one haircut.”

“No!” Peter laughed.

“I promise I’ll only make you half bald!”

“Never!”

Wade leaned down so he hovered over Peter’s face. “Please?” he asked softly.

Their eyes locked and they both froze. Peter opened his mouth to reply when-

“Dinner time!” Aunt May shouted from downstairs.

Wade leapt up and was across the room in seconds shouting, “Food!”

The door shut behind him as Peter sat up slowly, wondering why he felt like a thousand butterflies had been let loose in his stomach.

******

On the other side of the door, Wade leaned against the doorframe and closed his eyes wearily. His head pounded in his chest and his skin under his bandage still tingled from where Peter had touched him.

This was bad. This was really bad.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff. Enjoy! ^^

Peter hunched over his desk, math equations dancing before his exhausted eyes. He sighed and let his forehead hit the desk with a thud.

"Why don't you just call it a night? You've been at it for six hours straight," Wade commented from where he was reclined on Peter's bed eating potato chips.

"I can't, I have a test tomorrow," Peter replied, voice muffled by the wood of the desk.

"Yeah, well you're going to be sorry when you fall asleep in the middle of it because you didn't get enough sleep tonight. That actually happened to me once. I feel asleep in the middle of a job and I ended up getting my head chopped off a couple times before I finally woke up."

Peter sat up and swiveled his chair around to face Wade. "You know, you're really not being very helpful."

"What are you talking about? Helpful is my middle name."

"I'm pretty sure it's not."

"Hey, I can be super helpful," Wade said, springing off the bed and grabbing one of the papers in front of Peter. "I'll test you to see what you know." He peered down at the page. "Oh, dear god, what is this?! It looks like some kind of unbreakable military code!"

"It's chemistry," Peter replied, snatching the paper back. "Go to bed, I'm fine." He flapped is hands at Wade in a shooing motion. "Scram.”

Wade sniffed. "Fine, I can see where I'm not wanted."

"I never said I didn't want you, I just want you to shut up."

"I can shut up."

"I'd pay money to see that.”

"You’re so untrusting."

"Says the guy who's lived here for over a month and still doesn't trust me enough to take his mask off around me."

The words slipped out before Peter could stop them, but he instantly regretted them.

Wade froze before plastering a forced grin across his face. "Yeah, point taken. I guess it is hard to trust someone when you don't know what they look like. Guess that’s why most people don’t trust me.”

Peter shook his head. "Wade, that's not what I-"

"Oh my god, is that the time?" Wade cut in as he skipped to the door. "Time for bed. Goodnight, baby boy. Good luck on the test!"

He was out the door before Peter could answer.

******

The next morning there was no sign of Wade anywhere in the house. His things were gone and his makeshift bed on the sofa had disappeared. It was if he had never been there at all.

The week was a blur. Aunt May became more somber as the days passed and Peter couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything. He tried calling Wade's phone, but the number had been disconnected.

Peter was fairly certain that he failed his chemistry test because of distraction, as well as his English test later in the week, but he couldn't bring himself to care with Wade missing. Nothing mattered to him, not when Wade was gone, thinking that Peter didn't trust him.

But he did trust Wade. It had surprised him to realize it, since it had come on so gradually. But there was something bizarrely reassuring about Wade's presence in Peter's life, something he hadn't felt for a long time.

It was because of his distraction throughout the week that when he was leaving his English class on Friday, he ran straight into Flash.

Peter was pinned against a locker before he could say anything, with Flash glaring only inches from his face.

"Watch where you're going, Parker," he snarled.

"Sorry, Flash," he muttered, not even bothering to think of a smartass reply.

Flash grinned, sensing Peter's distraction. "What's this, Parker? No witty comebacks? What's wrong, cat got your tongue?"

"I've seen that happen before," a voice behind Flash said.

As Flash turned, Peter felt his heart stop. Standing directly behind Flash was Deadpool, in full gear, with arms crossed and a withering glare directed at Flash.

"Drop him." Wade said in a low voice.

Flash let go of Peter and stumbled back a few steps. "D- Deadpool? Parker, you know Deadpool?"

"Damn right he does, asshat," Wade said, taking a step toward Flash. "I'd keep that in mind, if I were you. Now get lost."

Flash raced off down the hall. The rest of the students gave Wade a wide birth as he and Peter faced each other in awkward silence.

"You haven’t been home all week," Peter finally said. "We were worried."

"Yeah, I got a last minute job and I figured while I was out I should probably start looking for other accommodations."

"Oh." Peter felt like he had been punched in the gut. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, I actually found a pretty nice house. I'm renting it though, so don't worry that I'm creeping on anything. Although I really do love people's reactions to coming back to their places being Deadpool-ized.”

Peter nodded, not sure what to say. Wade looked around him at Peter's classmates who were trying to listen without being too obvious.

Wade grinned. "Want to get out of here, Petey?"

And that was how Peter found him on the back of a motorcycle, halfway to his and Wade's Mexican restaurant.

"Not bad for a jailbreak!" Wade crowed. "They didn't even shoot at us!"

The grumpy cook behind the counter grimaced when he saw Wade and Peter enter his restaurant.

"You'd think he'd be more happy to see me since I'm pretty sure I'm the reason they're still in business," Wade grumbled as they sat down at their usual table.

Peter studied him silently.

"What?" Wade asked, suddenly self-conscious. "Is my arm on backwards again?"

"Why did you come to my school today?" Peter asked.

Wade was silent for a moment. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," he finally mumbled.

"You could have called."

"I didn't want you to know I was checking up on you."

Peter shook his head. "Look, I know you're mad about what I said about not trusting you and I don't blame you. It was a stupid thing to say and I only said it because I was cranky and tired. I do trust you and I’m really sorry, Wade."

"Wait," Wade said uncertainly. "You think I left because I was.... angry?"

"Didn't you?"

"No! I left because you're right now to trust me! Life is dangerous around me and I wouldn't want you or your aunt to get in any crossfire. You're totally justified in not trusting me and- Wait." He froze, staring at Peter. "Did you just say.... you trust me?"

"Of course I did. I trust you completely. So does Aunt May. She's worried sick about you, by the way."

"And I thought I was the crazy one," Wade muttered. "You shouldn't trust me, Petey. I'm a bad person."

"You do bad thing, but that doesn't necessarily mean you're a bad person."

Wade shook his head. "I promised myself that I wouldn't try to see you again after I left. That's what happened the first time we met, too. I had to stop myself from going back to your house. But the more time I spent with you, the more awful it was to be away from you. So I always ended right back up by your side, like some weird gravitational pull. You're like a little sun," he grinned. “It’s impossible to stay away.”

"Then stop trying to leave." Peter replied simply.

"It's too dangerous, baby boy," Wade said sadly. "I might heal from a bullet to the heart, but you wouldn't."

"So stop taking jobs."

Wade jerked in surprise. "What?"

"Go straight. Stop killing people."

Wade made a choking noise. "Stop being a mercenary? But that would be boring!"

"Not as boring as you think. You'd have me and Aunt May to help keep you occupied. Maybe we could even find you a real job somewhere. You could even become a regular hero, instead of an anti-hero."

Wade picked at a chip in the table. "I still have enemies, whether I'm an active mercenary or not, but I guess I wouldn't be making new enemies...."

"I think you'd be a lot happier," Peter smiled.

Wade sighed. "Fine, I'll try. But only because you suggested it."

"Does that mean you'll come back to live with us?"

Wade looked strangely embarrassed. "No. Well, I mean, yes. Sort of?"

"Wade, what did you do?" Peter asked, almost dreading the answer.

"I might have rented the house next to yours," Wade grinned. "Neighbor."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late update! I was trying to update every other day, but it's just been a pretty busy several day.  
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! ^^

"You really don't have to do this, you know" Peter said.

He was sitting on the couch in Wade's new living room. It was small but cozy room, with a TV on one side of a room across from the single couch where Peter and Wade sat facing each other.

Wade toyed with the edges of his mask. "I want to," he replied. "It's just that every time I show someone my face…. It hasn’t ended well."

Peter smiled and gently took Wade's hand. "I'm not going to be scared, Wade. It's okay."

Wade nodded, took a deep breath, and in one smooth movement pulled the mask off.

Peter sat in silence, studying the man in front of him.

He was some years older than Peter with shockingly blue eyes and a bald head. His face and head were riddled with scars and scabs that looked painful and raw. He wasn't meeting Peter's gaze, but studying the sofa cushion with an alarming intensity.

Peter reached out and gently lifted Wade's chin to look him in the eye. "It's nice to finally meet you, Wade Wilson," he smiled.

Wade looked at him uncertainly for a moment before a matching smile lit his face. "Nice to meet you too, Peter Parker."

******

Little by little, over the next few days, Wade got used to having his mask off in front of first Peter and then Aunt May, although he always put it back on when he went out or when someone else came to the house. Neither Peter not Aunt May ever asked about his scars, treating him the same as they always had before.

Despite having his own house to live in, he still spent most of his time at Peter and Aunt May’s house. While Peter was at school, if Wade wasn’t sent on a job, he would stay at home with Aunt May, who began teaching him how to cook more than Mexican food and pancakes.

One night after dinner, Wade was sitting on Peter's bed cleaning one of his guns while Peter did homework at his desk, occasionally glancing over disapprovingly at Wade.

"Why do you keep glaring at me? It’s not like I’m going to kill anyone. I told you that I wouldn’t.”

Peter sighed. "I guess it just strikes a little too close to home. You know the pictures in the living room of that old man with glasses?"

Wade nodded. "Your aunt said he was your uncle."

"He was," Peter agreed. "He was shot in cold blood right in front of me a couple months before I met you. We were at a convenience store and some guy robbed it. Uncle Ben tried to stop him and the guy shot him through the chest. We called an ambulance, but they were too late getting there. I couldn’t do anything except sit there and watch him die. I was so useless. We'd had an argument right before that, too."

Peter trailed off, staring at the floor in silence. He felt a hand covering his and looked up to see that Wade had gotten off the bed and was kneeling on the floor in front of his so they were at eye level.

"He knew you loved him, Petey, and he loved you, too. There's no way he wouldn’t. And you're not useless. You may not have been able to save him, but you loved him. And that's the best thing anyone could ever ask for."

They were silent for a moment before Wade continued speaking. "You know.... If you gave me a description of the guy, I could probably find him and take care of him. It would be pretty easy."

Peter frowned. "No, Wade. You're not going to hunt him down and kill him. How would that make you any different from him?"

"I'm already no different from him, so what does it matter?" Wade shrugged.

"I refuse to believe that. You're one hundred times better than him. And anyway, you stopped killing people."

"That’s true. I could make an exception this once, though."

“Absolutely not!”

Wade nodded. "Okay, then that that settles it." He stood up and went back to throw himself back on the bed.

"That settles what?" Peter asked suspiciously.

“I’m going to track him down. But!" He held up a finger stopping Peter who had opened his mouth to reply. “When I find him, I won’t kill him. I’ll turn him over to the police or whatever you want me to do with him.”

Peter stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. I'm always seriously. I'm Mr. Serious. I'm-"

His words were cut off as Peter flung himself across the room and hugged Wade tightly around the waist. Wade froze in shock before timidly wrapping his arms around Peter in return. 

"Thank you, Wade," Peter whispered, his face buried in Wade's chest. "Thank you."

******

Wade had spent most of the next day on the phone with some of his old connections, trying to find leads on Ben’s murderer. Peter didn’t leave his side the entire time. Neither of them told Aunt May what they were doing since she was out with a friend. They decided to surprise her with dinner after Wade’s calls didn’t get them anywhere.

Luckily, Wade remembered most of what Aunt May had been teaching him, so the burned food was kept to the minimum.

The mess, however, was of extraordinary proportions. It was made worse when Peter snuck up behind Wade and smeared some gravy on the top of Wade's head. Wade retaliated by chasing Peter around the kitchen island several times before giving up trying to catch him and instead throwing olives at Peter with the aim of a true marksman. After that it turned into a free for all.

After a vicious twenty minute battle, they sat on the floor of the wrecked kitchen, covered in edible carnage, and laughing so hard their sides hurt. 

"Believe it or not, that's actually the first food fight I've ever had," Peter giggled.

"It's the first food fight I've had that I didn't start," Wade laughed, leaning his head against the cabinet behind him and leaving a smear of gravy in his wake.

"I can believe that," Peter replied. "I bet you were really popular in your cafeteria when you were at school."

"The lunch ladies loved me," Wade said, winking.

Peter laughed, but stopped short when Wade suddenly sat up straight, an odd look on his face.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"I thought I heard something," Wade whispered, standing up and looking around.

Peter stood up next to him. "I didn't hear anything." 

"It was faint, but it sounded like it was coming from outside.

"You're not messing with me, are you?" Peter asked, suspicious of Wade's sudden mood change.

"More like the opposite," Wade replied, still turning and looking around the room. "I'm trying to protect you." 

Peter laughed in astonishment. "Protect me from what?"

"Since retiring, I’ve been getting some pretty nasty messages from my old clients. I figured people would be pissed at me, but I didn't think anyone would act this soon."

Peter put a gentle hand on Wade's arm. "You're imagining things," he said softly. "We're both safe. Nothing is going to happen."

Right has the words fell from him lips, he saw a dark figure loom up behind Wade.

Before Peter could shout a warning, a hand reached around from behind him holding a cloth and clamped down over his mouth and nose. He tried not to breath in, but in seconds his eyesight blurred. He heard a roar of fury from Wade and then he was falling.

The last thing he saw before the darkness closed in was Wade's severed head hitting the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the last for this fic! I hope you enjoy! ^^

Peter opened his eyes slowly, trying to clear his head of the remaining haze that lingered. He was seated in a cold metal chair, his hands tied behind its back and his ankles tied to its legs. The room around him was dark and damp, a cellar of some sort. There was a set of stairs to his right leading up, but he couldn't see anything beyond them. The room was empty besides his chair and an empty chair side him.

He was completely alone.

Where was Wade? Peter remembered seeing Wade's head hit the floor seconds before he passed out, but what had happened to him after that? What if this was the time that he didn't regenerate? What if he was dead?

Peter shook his head, trying to dispel the increasingly darkening thoughts that were plaguing his mind.

To his right, he heard a bolt being drawn back and heavy footsteps sound on the stairs. He turned and what he saw sent pang of relief rushing through him.

Wade, his head intact, was being marched down the stairs by a pair of giant, and very angry looking, men. Behind then walked a man with white hair, wearing white suit and horn-rimed glasses. He had a sour look on his face, much like someone who had just eaten a lemon.

"Petey, you're awake!" Wade chirped as they approached him. Peter could see several new cuts and bruises on Wade's face. They were already beginning to heal, but the fact that they were even there to begin with sent a thrill of anger though Peter.

"How’re you feeling, baby boy?" Wade asked as the two huge men shoved him into the vacant chair and began to tie him up.

"Never better," Peter replied. "What about you?"

"Not bad, not bad," Wade nodded. "Could've done without losing my head for awhile, but hey, could be worse! I had my dick chopped off once. Now that was unpleasant."

"Would you shut up?" The man in the white suit interrupted, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache.

"That's rude," Wade noted.

"I brought you here to finish the job I hired you to do, not to listen to you babble about all the body parts you've had chopped off. And that's all I've been hearing for the last two hours!"

Peter laughed. "You can talk about that for two hours?"

"Three, if I really get going," Wade replied, winking.

"Enough!" Peter was surprised that the man in white didn't stomp his foot in frustration.

"Will you or will you not do as I asked?"

"You technically never asked me to do anything. You hired me and then after that you just kept giving orders and telling me what to do. You're really bossy, you know. I don't like bossy people. Except Petey. I like Petey."

"I'm not bossy!" Peter interjected.

"You’re totally bossy. You remind me to brush my teeth after every meal, you yell at me if I talk while I'm eating, you won't let me draw with crayons on you bedroom walls, you even told me to wash behind my ears one time!"

"In my defense you came home smelling like you had been swimming in the sewers that night."

"I was swimming in the sewers that night, funny you should mention it."

"ARGH!" The man in white let out an anguished scream before lunging forward and grabbing Wade's chin, jerking his face up so they were staring into each others eyes.

"This is what's going to happen," he hissed. "You are going to kill who I paid you to kill, or my boys here will start aiming bullets at your boyfriend. Got it?"

Wade stared at him for a moment. "You really shouldn't have done that," he finally said.

"Done what?" The man asked triumphantly, letting go of Wade and straightening back up. "Threatened him?"

"No, called him my boyfriend. I was totally planning on asking him out this evening, before you invited us over to play, but now you just completely ruined it."

Peter made a squeaking noise. "You were going to ask me out? Really?"

"Yeah," Wade said, nervously looking over at him. "What would you have said?"

Peter laughed. "I would've said yes, you dummy."

Wade face split into a grin. "Really? You mean it?"

"You have got to be kidding me!" The man in white burst out. "This is not how hostage situations work!" He turned to his men. "Untie them," he ordered.

One of the men began untying Peter while the other untied Wade, and hauled them to their feet.

The man in white pulled out a pistol, cocked it, and placed it at Peter's forehead. "You will do as I ask, or the boy dies," he said.

Wade stilled, looking from the gun Peter's face.

"Don't do it, Wade," Peter said. "It's not worth it."

"Shut up!" The man in white snapped, slapping Peter hard across the face.

A snarl ripped out of Wade's throat. " _Big_ mistake, fucker."

He twisted and pitched the giant man holding him forward, sending him crashing into the man holding Peter and sending a three of the sprawling. Wade leapt at the man in white before he could move, knocking him to the floor and wrestling with him as he tried to get the gun away from him.

Wade's hand closed around the man's throat and, as Peter picked himself off the floor, he watched in horror as the life began to drain out of the man at Wade's fingertips.

"Wade, don't kill him," he yelled.

Wade looked back at him, his fingers loosening around the man's throat just a fraction, but it was enough for the man in white to move. Lifting the gun, he fired, a look of triumph stamped across his face.

The world stopped.

Fire ripped through Peter's stomach and a look of horror passed over Wade's face. Peter looked down in confusion as a sticky dampness began to spread across his shirt.

His knees hit the floor.

He heard a sickening crunch followed by a howl of pain and then Wade was at his side, lowering him gently to the ground.

"Oh no, don't do this Petey, don't you dare do this to me. Not right after I asked you out, that's just not fair. No!" he cried as Peter's eyes began to flutter. "You stay with me, baby, do you hear me? You're going to be okay."

Peter weakly clutched at the front of Wade's shirt. "Don't do what he wants," he whispered. "Don't become a mercenary again."

Wade shook his head. "I won't. I'll stay right here. I'll do anything you want me to. Just please, stay with me, Petey, please!"

As Peter's eyes closed and his body went limp in Wade's arms, the last thing he saw were unchecked tears rushing down the Wade's scarred face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter and I'm really sorry that it's so short. I've never been very good with endings. OTL  
> But thank you so much to everyone who read this fic! And thank you to everyone who left me such lovely and encouraging comments! This fic received much more attention and love than I was anticipating and it really does mean a lot to me.  
> I hope you enjoy the last chapter! <3

Light filtered through Peter's closed eyes, pulling him out of the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.

The sterile smell of hospital filled his nose as he opened his eyes and stared up at a white tiled ceiling. He was lying on his back in a hospital bed with scratchy sheets, propped up by a ridiculous amount of pillows. His room was tiny, with only one bed and a tiny window to his right. Across the room, under a blank TV was a stack of cards and an alarming amount of flowers.

"Peter?"

He turned his head to find Aunt May seated in the chair to the left of his bed. She had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn't gotten much sleep.

"Where's Wade?" Peter's voice came out in a rasp. Aunt May stood up and helped him take a sip of water from the glass next to his bed.

"I haven't seen him since he brought you here," she replied as she sat back down and gently picked up Peter's hand. "You both went missing overnight. I worried sick, but then I got a call from Wade saying that you were shot and had passed out and that I should meet him at the hospital. I got here at the same time he did, carrying you. As soon as he saw that you were safe, he left. You’ve been asleep for most of the day."

"He's been missing all day?" Peter asked in alarm, struggling to rise. A sharp pain shot through his abdomen and he fell back onto his pillows with a gasp of pain.

"You can't move like that, sweetheart," Aunt May scolded, hovering over him as she straightened his blankets. "You were shot I the stomach. It wasn’t life threatening since Wade got you here so fast, but you still need to be careful."

"I'm fine, Aunt May," Peter said, taking her hand to stop her fretting. "Really. I'll be fine."

She shook her head. "You and your uncle always made the worst things seems like nothing. I'm going to go find the doctor and tell him you're awake. I'll be right back." She gave his hand a squeeze before leaving the room.

Alone in the room, Peter stared up at the ceiling. "Where are you, Wade?" he whispered.

"Right here, baby boy," a voice near him said immediately. "Hospitals really stink. You’d think they'd do something about that."

Peter turned and saw Wade, sitting on the ledge of the window, smiling nervously at him. He wasn't dressed as Deadpool, but in a pair of jeans and red hoodie, no mask in sight.

"Where have you been all day?" Peter asked.

"Sitting outside your window, waiting for you to wake up."

"You could've come in, you know."

"I don't like hospitals," Wade replied, getting off the window ledge and walking around the bed to seat himself in the chair Aunt May have vacated.

"What happened to those guys that kidnapped us?" Peter asked.

"I broke the wrist of the fucker that shot you. The other two have some bumps and bruises from getting tossed across the room, but other than that they're all holed up nice and cozy in jail."

Peter shook his head. "I can't believe I got shot. How badass is that?"

"Extremely," Wade grinned. "You're Mr. Popular now. See?" he gestured to the table of flowers across the room. "You even got flowers from that kid, Flash. He totally has a crush on you."

"He does not," Peter said, glaring at Wade.

"He totally does, but if you want to be in denial I'm completely okay with that. Less competition for me."

"You don’t have any competition. Although if you were wanting to go on a date, I don't think that’s going to happen any time soon. Aunt May isn't going to let me out of her sight for months after this."

"That's okay," Wade said, reaching over and taking Peter's hand gently in his. "I'll bring the date to you. I'm thinking eating Mexican takeout and watching Breaking Bad."

Peter nodded. "I'd be down with that."

Wade grinned. "I knew you were awesome." He stifled a yawn.

"When was the last time you got some sleep?" Peter asked, watching him closely.

"Umm, sometime before we got kidnapped? I think?"

"You need sleep. Go to sleep," Peter ordered.

"But I don't like hospitals," Wade complained.

"I'll be right here," Peter said.

Wade stifled another yawn. "You’re so bossy. I’ll do it, but only because you want me to."

Wade was still for a moment before leaning across suddenly and placing a long, gentle kiss on Peter's surprised lips. He pulled away and settled back in his chair, a satisfied smile of his face. "Goodnight, Petey."

Peter's heart was pounding and a huge smile stretched across his face as he closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Wade."

******

A few minutes later when Aunt May returned with the doctor, she found Peter and Wade fast asleep, Peter in the bed and Wade in the chair next to him, their hands held tightly between them.

"He's not family," the doctor said. "He shouldn't be in here."

Aunt May shook her head and smiled. "No doctor, they're both exactly where they should be. Together."


End file.
